


Pretty, Pretty Boy

by sparxwrites



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Corsetry, F/M, Feminization, Kink Discovery, Unexpected Arousal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8940775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: Whitestone fashion leaves a lot to be desired, in Vex's opinion. She tells Percy she'll stop complaining about the tight bodices and corsets if he spends an evening wearing one, too.
The results are... more interesting than they expected.





	

Vex, for all her love of the new-found finery that comes with the title Baroness of the Third House of Whitestone, Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt, _hates_ corsets.

Or, perhaps, hate is too strong a word. “They’re just… inconvenient,” she says, lips pursed tight and brows pulled into a frown, every time Percy helps lace her into one, calloused fingers gentle and steady with the laces as he tugs on them. He watches her curves become more pronounced, more defined, watches her waist shrink down to something tiny and her hips seem to broaden by comparison, and feels a curl of something that’s not _entirely_ lust in the bottom of his stomach. “They’re tight, and restrictive, and impractical, and I can’t _move_ right in them, what if there’s an attack on the castle and I can’t run? And they make me look awfully flat-chested, darling, you know I’m not all that big to begin with, and really, I-”

When Percy suggests, gently, almost teasing, that perhaps she is being a _little_ overdramatic – as is her wont, as is _both_ their wont, for that matter – given she only has to wear one at most two times a week, for formal dinners, she scowls at him. “I’d like to see _you_ manage a dinner in one,” she snaps, swatting at his hands when they linger on her now-tiny waist.

And, well… Percy never _has_ been one to back down from a challenge.

“Are- am I- _allowed_?” is the first thing he asks, when she lays the corset out on the bed and starts loosening the laces out as far as they’ll go, fastenings undone so it’s laid out flat. He sounds so _timid_ , so hesitant, so utterly un-Percy-like, that Vex can’t help but laugh.

“Of course, darling,” she purrs, lifting the corset carefully – it’s heavy and unwieldy like this, opened up and ready to be put on, all steel bones and brocade and sturdy lacing – and watching the way Percy’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, staring. She’d known he’d like it, dark and gothic, with the silky obsidian-black embroidery of the brocade’s stylised roses only barely visible against the charcoal of the fabric. “Men are allowed to be pretty, too, you know. It would be _terribly_ unfair of us women to keep all the beautiful things for ourselves – though you know I make an exception when it comes to _you_.”

He swallows harder at that, hands trembling at the touch of corset against bare skin, and Vex can’t help but sigh at the sudden rush of _affection_ that surges in her breast. Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, she wraps the corset around his torso, clicks the fastenings at the front into place, and grasps the laces at the back. Tugging on them a little, getting them tight enough that the corset isn’t constricting but just _barely_ gripping him, adjusting it into the correct position, she grins. “Tell me when, darling.”

Percy inhales, unsteady, and exhales, almost a whine. “ _When_.”

She laces up the corset in slow segments, steady inches, over the course of fifteen minutes. The laces pull and pull, and the corset tightens and tightens, and Percy’s breathing gets more ragged the tighter it gets. She rather enjoys it, the tease of it, watching him fall apart from nothing more than a little pressure and the silly taboo of wearing a _woman’s_ garment, of indulging in forbidden beauty.

By the time she’s finished, his chest is heaving, eyes wide and cheeks a little flushed, and the complete lack of clothing on his lower half makes his arousal impossible to hide.

Vex grins, wide and hungry and _delighted_ , as she always is when a good plan comes to bountiful fruition. “Look at you,” she says, settling hands on his noticeably narrower waist and turning him to face the full-length mirror she’d deliberately kept him away from during the lacing-up. “You look _beautiful_ , darling. My pretty, _pretty_ boy.”

“ _Vex’ahlia_ ,” breathes Percy, somewhere between strangles and scandalised at her words. When he sees himself, though, his eyes go so _delightfully_ wide, like he can’t quite believe it. “Oh, my- good _grief_. That’s… that’s very… well. _Well_.”

He makes a lovely picture, she has to admit. He _always_ makes a lovely picture, in her eyes, but like this – laced tight into the corset, with room tighten further in another quarter-hour or so when he’s adjusted, the black stark and bold against his pale skin and white hair…

Well. It would be striking even _without_ the curves the corset gives him, feminising the sharp edges of him, and the proud jut of his cock, hard against the fastenings of the corset over his stomach. All things considered, Vex rather things _stunning_ is an entirely appropriate adjective.

Or, perhaps, _delectable_ , given how badly she wants to get her mouth on him right now.

She says none of that, though. “Darling!” she says, instead, mock-scandalised. Slipping a hand between his cock and the fabric of the corset, she presses a kiss to the side of his neck, soft and lingering. “Careful, careful,” she murmurs in his ear, voice dripping easy seduction. “You’ll stain the lovely fabric, if you don’t watch out, and that just _won’t do._ ”

Percy twitches at the contact, gasps a little and barely bites off his groan when the sudden inhale reminds him of his new constriction. “I’m- _terribly_ sorry, Lady Vex’ahlia,” he says, struggling to keep his composure, and Vex can’t help but feel a little smug at how _easy_ it’s been to win this particular little game of theirs. 

The night’s not even over, either – he still has an entire dinner to spend in it, trying to make small talk and pleasantries with the guests whilst distracted. Socialising whilst knowing what he’s wearing under his formalwear, wondering whether any of them have guessed his little secret, whether his curves are too obvious or the corset too dark against the white of his shirt… 

Vex pulls herself forcibly out of _that_ particular train of thought, thighs clenching involuntarily. There’ll be plenty of time for that later, and if she gets distracted now, they’ll never make it to the dinner on time. Or at all.

Percy, however, is a different matter. He’s still staring at himself in the mirror, touching the silky fabric and hard bones of the corset almost reverently, smoothing his hands over his new curves. It’s as adorable as it is arousing, the look of awe and tentative delight in his eyes as he explores the shape his body has been coaxed into, the elegant cage of metal and brocade covering it. Vex wonders, distantly, a little dizzily, why she’s never thought to do this before – and can do little more than stare, slightly breathless with second-hand delight, as Percy slowly explores this newfound pleasure.

“Well, it’s clear that _this_ little problem isn’t going to go away any time soon,” she says, after a minute or so, running her thumb over the head of his cock. She can’t help but sigh appreciatively at the way he groans, twitches and rocks back against her, so _sensitive_ as always. She rather thinks he’d forgotten she was there, carried away with the corset as he was. “Not without a little help, anyways.” 

She swats at his arse with her free hand, just hard enough for him to feel it, and laughs when he jumps, gasps, cock twitching against her palm. “Hands behind your back, now, darling, there’s a good boy.”

Despite how distracted he was just moments earlier, he snaps to attention at her words, clasping his hands loosely at the small off his back and exhaling a soft breath of anticipation as she circles round him. When she drops to her knees in front of him, she can see how his thighs are trembling, and it’s enough to make her own clench again.

“ _That’s_ it,” she purrs, pressing a kiss to the soft, slick head of his cock and raising hands to grip his newly-accentuated waist, steadying him. Like this, still in front of the mirror, she knows he must be able to see himself, and see her, be able to admire the scene they make together. Beautiful as they both are, she knows, vainly, it must be a _very_ nice one. “Just stand there and be pretty, darling, and let me take care of you before dinner, hmm?”

“…Vex, dear,” Percy says, voice arousal-raw as he stares down at her with a smile, eyes still a little dazed. “Have- have I mentioned recently how much I _adore_ -”

She grins up at him through her lashes, all white teeth and wickedly-curled lips – and closes her mouth around him before he can finish the sentence. He buckles forward into her with a cry, hands grabbing wildly at her silky hair, movement restricted by the tight steel bones of the corset, and-

_Well_. And, after that, he says very little – other than _Vex, Vex, dear, yes, yes, gods yes-!_

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this prompt](https://criticalkink.dreamwidth.org/700.html?thread=95420#cmt95420) on the kinkmeme, and to "[Just One Dance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QUmPZmkr4I)" by Caro Emerald, as part of my ongoing mission to let percy be a soft, pretty boy. dude needs to ease up on the whole performative masculinity and wear beautiful things.
> 
> come find me at @sparxwrites on tumblr for more sin.


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